


O Captain! My Captain! (You Lift Me High Among the Clouds)

by ArtsyDeath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Clothing Kink, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Harry Potter, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Locker Room, Multi, Naked Female Clothed Male, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Sex, magic sex toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 01:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyDeath/pseuds/ArtsyDeath
Summary: The war has ended. By all reasons Harry should be happy but there's an anticipation and constant worry for the next new threat, the place after Voldemort strangely empty.It takes her two former Captains to remind her that there's more to life than fighting monsters.-Or: Harry is their Seeker - that has always been the easy truth of the matter and Angelina and Oliver shows her just what it means inside the empty Gryffindor locker room.





	1. Locker Room Meetings

Harry sits down heavily, looking around nostalgically at the benches and hangers, the large open doorway leading into private shower stalls to allow for a mix of bodies to shower in peace.

She remembers being eleven-years-old and a bit too wide eyed as Oliver Wood casually peeled his shirts, pants and underwear off right beside her but it had eased and become something natural during her years of quidditch training, tradition upheld by Angelina and then Ron and finally Harry as they returned back for their eight year at Hogwarts to reclaim what they missed during the war.

Her mouth dips and she stares down at her hands, wondering if she’d grown for the better or for the worst.

She’d become a murdered at eleven and she’d finished it at seventeen, fear in his eyes before her magic swallowed him up and left those liquid red eyes finally empty as he collapsed down, as human as any of them, his soul pieces destroyed and gone with the destruction of the one inside of her.

She brushes her fingers against her scar, feeling the way it was finally starting to fade from the livid colour it had been her entire life.

Harry breathes out.

She was the last one finishing up – she had spent an hour helping Hooch arranging things while the rest of the team changed and left in celebration and then she’d gotten stuck in a long conversation with Slughorn about horcruxes which wasn’t anything she wanted to revisit, even mentally, anytime soon.

Reaching for her armbraces she’s just starting to unlatch it when there’s a noise, the creak of hinges, her hand curling around the handle of her wand as she lurches to her feet, levelling it on the sound even before she places the familiarity of those two voices and she’s yanking it down just as they step around the corner

Angelina Johnson raises a pointed eyebrow at her, gaze flickering to her wand and back while Oliver Wood peered around the familiar walls of the locker room with the same sort of nostalgia that had overtaken her only moments ago.

“Oliver, Angelina – what are you doing here?” Harry blurts out in surprise, still in full Quidditch gear save for her helmet which was still resting on the floor of the nook she had Slughorn had claimed for her conversation.

“Have you seen anything so nostalgic, Angie?” Oliver says, eyes visibly trailing over her as she stuffed the wand into her pack-pocket, hearing Moody’s grumbles somewhere in the back of her mind as she did. “Our little Seeker, all grown-up.” He folds his arms, broader than she remembered him but still with the lean build suited for flying.

Last Harry had heard of Oliver he had signed a contract as a Keeper but that had been before the war. She hadn’t exactly been keeping track of people thereafter, busy with her own troubles and the strange lapsing emptiness that came with Voldemort’s death.

Everyone seemed to be moving on without her while Harry spent most days waiting for the next new threat, the next new adventure, trying to get her mind to accept that there was no such thing.

Not unless she joined up with the Auror Division as Ron had been hinting strongly towards.

“Don’t mind him,” Angelina snorts. “He appeared all weepy drunk at my door yesterday, babbling about his baby Seeker playing her last game as a Gryffindor Captain and demanded we came check up on you, see how you were doing.”

Harry blinks at her.

Angelina hadn’t changed much from the last time she saw her in the Great Hall after the war had ended. Dark hair, dark skin, the same sharp gaze that had made her an excellent Captain.

Harry still wasn’t sure who had terrified her more – Oliver or Angelina. Their passion for Quidditch had been a thing to behold as they pushed their teams through mud and rain and injury.

It was inspiring, Harry admitted to herself, even if it had left her so wrenched out that she’d collapsed right down in her bed, clothes and all, to an exasperated Hermione who ended up helping her out of the worst of it with the occasional help from one of their year mates.

“You didn’t have to,” she says. “But it’s great to see you.”

She gives them a loop-sided grin and gains two in return and Oliver takes it as his que to step forward and Harry laughs as he enfolds her, easily lifting her up into a spin. “You were great out there!” he breathes as he releases her, eyes sparkling.

“I agree,” Angelina speaks next, tugging her into her arms and Harry breathes in her scent, trying to ignore the way the two of them easily dwarfed her as she got her arms around the older girl and squeezed back.

Her build had only ever been to her advantage as a Seeker but it was a bit exasperating to realize Angelina could easily tuck her chin on top of her head without trouble.

“We thought you’d left,” Angelina says as she releases her. “But I’m glad Oliver insisted on taking another loop around the field. We caught the tail-end of you as you disappeared inside here.”

“I have played on many quidditch pitches but this one remains the best,” Oliver says fondly.

Harry drags a hand through her hair, grimacing a bit at the feel of dried sweat. “Slughorn needed to talk and I couldn’t exactly tell him no,” she admits, eyes darkening as she remembered the topic, the guilt that had carved deep lines in the man’s face as he waved goodbye without really seeing her.

“Hey,” Angelina’s voice makes her look up. “You didn’t exactly know we were stopping by. Hell, I didn’t know.” Her words are joking but her gaze is searching hers for something Harry isn’t sure and she gives her a weak grin.

“Yeah, sorry – just, been a bit busy lately,” she confesses with a sigh, stretching her arms out in front of her. “I really need to shower but feel free to linger if you want,” she offers them. “Unless you have somewhere to be,” she tacks on belatedly.

“We came to see you,” Angelina says simply.

Oliver drops down on the bench beside her things and Angelina pauses before she does the same on the other side as Harry reaches for her armbrace and started undoing the threads on the inside of it, loosening them up patiently with a wiggle of her fingers until she get it off her arm.

“Have you only been exploring the pitch?” she asks curiously as she gets working on the second one.

“We stopped by the lake as well,” Oliver says, tilting his head as he considered her. “So, how does it feel to finally graduate? Have you decided on your future yet? There must be a lot of offers for the saviour of the wizarding world.

 _“Oliver,”_ Angelina hisses. “We said no recruitment speeches until we were off Hogwarts grounds!”

Harry pauses where she’d started on her right elbow guard, mentally sorting through the statement.

“Are you playing on the same team?” she asks curiously, gaze flittering between them as she pulled it off and dropped it down beside its companion piece.

Angelina sighs, long-suffering at their former Captain while Wood didn’t look regretful at all.

“It’s not officially out yet,” Angelina admits, lowering her voice despite it being only the three of them. “But Puddlemere United offered me a spot on the team after two of their Chasers and their Seeker resigned recently after the world cup.”

Harry’s eyes brightened. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations!” she enthused, dragging the heavy match coat off and worming out her shirt followed by the heavy chest piece beneath it with a breath of relief, leaving her in Gryffindor red and gold as she threw it aside. “How does it feel to be back on the same team?”

“Pretty fantastic,” Angelina admitted as Oliver nodded, face soft.

“Puddlemere United was Albus favorite team,” she says, thinking on her mentor. “He always had a soft spot for it.”

“You mean Professor Dumbledore?” Oliver blurta out in shock, identical owlish looks as Harry hooked a booted foot up on the bench and began unlacing it.

“Yeah,” she agrees, mouth twitching. “I don’t think he missed a single game here at Hogwarts - he was low key a pretty big fan of the sport. We spent the occasional evening listening in on Puddlemere United games in identical scarves and hand-knitted caps as per his arrangement.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry pauses, blinking at Oliver. “You must miss him,” he clarifies, looking a bit awkward suddenly.

Done unlacing her shoes Harry pressed down on one heel at the time and pushed out of them, poking them beneath the bench.

“It’s fine,” she tells him. “If he was here he would have told me that it’s good to remember the happy times.”

“There were almost rumours about you being close,” Angelina begins hesitantly. “But – it’s still hard to imagine. He was always this untouchable figure on a pedestal.”

Harry thinks back on the cave, the weak and trembling begging, forcing mouthful after mouthful after poison down into him and then – watching him collapse at the hands of the man he had defended to Harry over and over again.

“People view me the same way, you know,” she says, pushing the memory away. “When I was growing up, before I knew about the magical world, I sometimes had men and women coming up before me, bowing and thanking me, sometimes crying. It was all a terrible awkward affair.”

“But you’re… Harry,” Oliver says a bit awkward and it startles a laugh out of her, the first in many weeks and she gives him a fond look.

“Exactly,” she agrees, tugging down her pants and stepping out of them, dragging her socks with them and stuffing it up together as she stretched carefully before tugging off the long-sleeved undershirt, reaching back to undo her bra with practiced ease and grasping at her panties, bending over as she pulled them down and stepped out one foot at the time.

She begins rummaging for her towel, pausing as she became aware of the suddenly strange silence, the heaviness of their gazes upon her as she slowly straightened out.

“Guys?” she asks a bit hesitantly as she shifted in place.

“I’d almost forgotten about it,” Angelina says with a whoosh of breath, blinking and gazing away.

Oliver looked rather gobsmacked himself. “I didn’t even think about it,” he admits. “It seemed so normal back then.”

Harry hesitantly hugs her towel to her chest and grabs her body wash, shrugging as she traipsed down to the showers.

She takes her time scrubbing down, making sure to get every crease until she was squeaky clean, using her towel to scrub at her hair as she stepped back into the changing room where Angelina and Oliver were whispering between themselves, jerking up guiltily when she stepped into view.

Harry slows, towel lowering, and she tugged it in place around her waist.

But when she reached for her bag an arm blocked the path and she pauses as she carefully straightens out.

“Harry-“ Oliver begins, clearing his throat. “Angelina and I – we actually came here with an offer in mind,” he admits.

“You don’t have to say yes, you don’t have to hear the entire thing, you can just ignore it entirely but…” Angelina shrugs a bit helplessly.

“It would mean a lot of you would consider it,” Oliver finishes, eyes intent.

The sudden seriousness unnerves her and she isn’t quite sure what it has to do with her clothes but she was quickly getting cold, the water drying on her skin, the towel around her hips small and not exactly makikg an effort of warming her up.

“I’m listening,” she says carefully and they exchange a long look.

Oliver clears his throat, the silence drags, and Harry can feel her nipples pebbling in the cold as she gives a little shiver.

One of them swallows audible.

“We would like to fuck you,” Angelina blurts suddenly.

Oliver makes a wheezy noise at her bluntness and Harry’s eyes widens – realizing with sudden clarity why they had reacted so strangely to her changing and she feels heat creeping up her cheeks and down her chest in a flood of colour that makes both of them stare and Harry grasps desperately at the small knot keeping her towel up.

“Are you serious?” she gets out, eyes darting between them.

Oliver seems to catch his bearings at that, nodding along with Angelina who had threaded her fingers together, bone straining tight beneath her dark skin.

Harry stares at them both, feeling rather lost, ransacking her mind for any hint leading up to this situation and coming up flat empty.

“You’ve grown into a beautiful woman,” Angelina says carefully as Harry’s green eyes meets her brown. “Clever, one of the best Seekers I’ve seen in action and I’ve been watching a lot of games these last couple of months.”

“It’s sexy,” Oliver admits. “And – you’ve always been _our_ Harry. We nearly lost you in the war and then now – seeing how much you’ve grown… Seeing you out there on the pitch today.” He exhales visibly, something like hunger creeping into his gaze.

Harry’s fingers tightens. “You’re dating?” she ventures carefully.

“No,” they echoes.

“But we don’t have to be dating to want you,” Angelina says, eyes darting down and then up with a hitch of her brow and Harry swallowed at the coil of want that rolled through her, shifting unsurely as her gaze darted between them, painful aware of her own nudity.

But she wasn’t saying _no_ and Angelina slowly pushed away from the bench, straightening up as Harry’s gaze fixed on her, a quiver in her breath as the older girl took a step towards her and then another, her eyes searching as she slowly reached down and put a hand on the one Harry was using to keep the towel in place.

A small tug and Harry stiffly unlatched her fingers, relinquishing it to the other who carefully slipped it off her with a sharp inhalation at the sight of Harry’s nude body while she twitched a bit uncomfortable, a feeling of vulnerability creeping upon her as her tongue dared out, wetting her lips as she gave a little nervous shiver.

“Beautiful,” Angelina whispers, palm settling warm and calloused on her hip, the other brushing strands of wet hair away from her forehead before cradling against her cheek, tilting her head as Angelina bent down and slanted her lips over hers.

Harry couldn’t help the sharp inhalation, heart stuttering inside of her chest as a tongue brushed questioningly against her lips and she opened her mouth, whimpering as Angelina’s grip tightened, deepening it as Harry reached up to grasp at the thick sweater she was wearing, succumbing willingly to the domination of the other.

Harry jerks as two large palms settles on her lower back, sliding up and over her shoulders and then down again, feeling the strength of her lean muscles, fingers tickling against her sides as Angelina drew back, allowing her a gasp of breath before sealing her back into another rough kiss with a groan as the hands on her back brushed lower and lower until they were grasping her buttocks, kneading the flesh there as her heart pounded hard inside her chest.

Angelina gives her lip a nip and Harry’s eyes darts open, swaying, unaware of when she’d closed them as she stares into the warm brown eyes of the older girl.

Harry swallows, unfurling her fingers from the tight grasp on the others shirt and sliding her palm up, settling on Angelina’s neck, grasping as she pushed up on her toes into another kiss and she feels Angelina’s mouth stretch into a smile against her lips.

Oliver drags a tongue up her spine, tasting the drops of water still clinging to her as Harry made a noise of surprise, her breathing heavy as palms glided from her rump and up around her, settling warm and heavy over her breasts as she shivered, fingers brushing over her hard nipples, curling around them with a little tug and her arousal flared in response, moaning into Angelina’s mouth as Oliver rubbed his thumbs decisively over them.

“Do you trust us?” Angelina murmurs against her lips.

“Yes,” Harry gasps.

“Do you want us?” Oliver’s warm breath creeps over her ear, his chin tucking against her shoulder, chapped lips brushing against the shell.

_“Yes.”_

They spin her around and Harry barely has time to get her footing before Oliver’s lips were pressing against her own, her mouth opening up with a gasp, his hands framing her face, a whimper slipping out of her as Angelina stepped away.

Harry shifted, making an attempt to see what she was doing only for Oliver to drag his teeth over her lip, firmly distracting her.

Lips presses reassuringly against her shoulder before something pushed down against her head and Oliver pulls back as they together got the shirt down and over her, guiding her arms through the sleeves as she looked down at herself with a flush when she realized she was back in her Seeker shirt.

Judging by the way they were both staring at her neither of them minded the fact that it was still heavy with her smell from the game, Oliver visibly swallowing as Angelina’s eyes darkened with hunger.

“I think I have to agree with you,” Angelina says with an unfamiliar rasp in her tone. “That _is_ sexy _._ ”

“Our little Seeker,” Oliver murmurs, gaze intent, fingers brushing against the fabric that reached down mid-thigh on her.

And then he abruptly sunk to his knees in front of her and Harry jerks in shock as his arm hooked around her, dragging her tight against him as his tongue dragged wide and wet between her folds, all the way up over her clit as she made a noise, hand darting down to grasp desperately at his hair as he repeated it, mapping her out as she clung wide-eyed and gasping, sweat beading on her back as her muscles strained.

“That’s a good look on you,” Angelina tells her breathily as she pushes up against her back, hands finding and tugging at her breasts as Oliver’s tongue prodded up against her entrance, pushing inside as she whimpered at the feeling of the wet organ wiggling up to drag against her sensitive walls. “Have you ever had sex before, Harry?” she asks against the flesh of her neck, teeth dragging over her skin.

“No,” Harry admits with a broken gasp as Oliver’s fingers sunk deeper into her skin, practically pinning her place as he ate her out with increasing fervour.

 _“Good,”_ Angelina says and Harry jerks as her teeth sinks into her shoulder, bruising the skin and tipping Harry right into an orgasm with a hitch of her hips as her walls clenched down hard on the invading tongue. “You were ours _first_ ,” Angelina murmurs possessively, tongue flattening over the bruised skin, arms wrapping tight around her as Oliver didn’t stop, continuing even as she squirmed helplessly in their grasp, toes curling, simultaneously trying to push close and pull away as they forced overstimulated nerves through one orgasm and into a next with a keen as her muscles locked down.

Oliver kisses her clit soothingly to a jerk and a hitch of her breath as she shivers, chest heaving as she was slowly released back down to her feet.

Oliver stretches out and Harry’s eyes widen as she’s squished up between them, Angelina tasting her on Oliver’s lips with a groan, tongue swiping over his lips to claim the sticky want there as Harry felt a sharp flare of arousal between her legs.

She flushes at the feel of Oliver’s bulge against her belly, painfully aware of the way they both towered above her, the encompassing feeling of their warmth against her naked body.

“Do you think you can handle us both at the same time?” Angelina asks breathlessly and Harry swallows, unsure what exactly she was asking but wanting it desperately as she nods and Oliver inhales sharply, hips jerking up against her.

Angelina grabs their discarded jackets and Harry finds herself guided down on her hands and knees, Oliver settling behind her, hand rubbing against her flank, over her cheeks, grasping and kneading the flesh there while Angelina unbuttoned her jeans, worming out of the fabric and discarding it aside along with her underwear as Harry watched, mouth dry.

Behind her Oliver unbuttons his own pants, pushing them down just enough to free his erection with a groan and a hitch of his breath as Angelina settled carefully in front of Harry, spreading her legs invitingly.

Harry flushes. “I – I’ve never,” she admits with a little quiver as Angelina’s eyes flashes with hunger.

“Don’t worry,” she soothes, brushing her fingers up Harry’s face, finding her black hair and curling loosely into the wet strands. “I’ll help you.”

Harry swallows and then she was being tugged down encouragingly, tongue curling out, flattening against the folds, spreading them out as she dragged up in a broad stroke, trying to copy what Oliver had done to her as Angelina gave a shudder.

Behind her Oliver was grasping his cock, nudging the head up against her entrance as she stilled, a brief flash of worry crossing her mind and then promptly forgotten as Angelina’s grip tightened, pressing her down as her entrance strained wide and painful, hands finding and digging into the flesh of Angelina’s hips as Oliver gave an encouraging push of his hips as she swallowed him inside of her, entrance settling tight against his shaft, dragging down as he fed her inch after painful inch as she squeezed her eyes shut with an embarrassing keen, body protesting against the invasion, heart pounding in her chest.

“She’s so damn _small_ , Angie,” Oliver curses, staring at the obscene picture she made as she took more and more of him into her until he pushed up against something inside of her, just a few inches short of bottoming out into her.

Harry whimpered into Angelina’s folds, her tongue pressing and curling up against the walls, muscles straining tight, back knotted with tension as Oliver brushed soothing kissing against her back.

He drags painfully against her walls as he pulls out and then pushed forward, repeating it as Harry focused on the smell and taste of the older girl as a leg lifted to settle against her neck, pushing her down further with a painful dip of her back as Oliver slowly worked more and more into her with every push of his hips until he pressed up flat against her rump, the head of his cock mashed up against her cervix as she shifted uncomfortable on her knees with a noise of discontent.

Angelina tightens her grip further, practically rubbing herself against her mouth, nose and chin as Oliver drew back and thrust forward with a jerk of her body againsr Angelina who hitched her hips up at the feeling.

“Do that again,” she gasped, voice strained and Harry’s eyes widened as Oliver drew back with new determination, his hips smacking up against her and jolting her forward as Angelina moaned and Harry whimpered.

The sounds echoed inside the walls of the locker room where they had spent many years together, changing and growing, winning and losing together. The smack of flesh, the wet drag of his cock, Angelina’s noises of appreciating and Oliver’s heavy breathing as he pounded into her, Harry trapped between them, hanging on for dear life.

“Fingers-“ Angelina encouraged, voice strained as Harry shifted, pushing two fingers against her folds, finding the entrance and sinking into it as Oliver’s thrust slowed to a lazy sort of drag with a hard push forward as Harry spread her fingers, curling and dragging them experimentally as she sucked Angelina’s clit into her mouth, flattening her tongue over it with a hard rub to a sharp arch of the hips beneath her, muscles tightening and pressing down hard on her neck as the older girl came with a stuttered groan of her name.

Harry slides her fingers out, watching the sticky threads of slick as she spread her them out before sucking them into her mouth as Oliver paused, pushed flush against her with a noise of disbelief.

Angelina steals her mouth into a kiss to a moan, tasting herself with a twist of tongues.

"Good girl," she says appreciatively to a pleased flush before she was pulling back, shifting to settle beside them on her knees, dragging appreciative eyes down the picture they made with the large Keeper spreading the small Seeker beneath him.

“I bet you want to go fast,” Angelina murmurs, stroking a hand down Harry’s flank, dipping down to drag her nails over the curls as the younger twitched. “Do you think you can take it fast, Harry?”

Oliver feels the way her walls clenches down around him with a ragged breath.

“Sure feels like she wants to try,” he gets out with an experimental pull back and a heavy push forward with a jolt as he slammed up hard against her cervix.

Harry sinks her fingers into Angelina’s jacket, arching her back with a curl and pushing back into the next thrust, feeling the way he split her walls around him as he pulled nearly all the way back before snapping forward with increasing fervour as Angelina watched beside them.

She reaches idly for the Gryffindor shirt, tugging it up just enough to get a good view of the jerk of small breasts with every hard thrust as her breathing deepened and she spread her thighs to reach down and curl her fingers into her with a gasp and a small jerk, still sensitive from her orgasm.

Oliver’s eyes slides towards her, muscles straining, sweat beading on his skin as he bottomed out over and over again into their Seeker.

Harry comes with a sharp surprised cry beneath him and Oliver falters in shock as her walls clamps down on him, pulsing around his cock as she arched sharply - fingers and toes curling as she gasped for breath, head hanging with noticeably strain as he slowly pulled out of her to a whimper of protest.

“That – was unexpectedly hot,” he admits a bit breathless at knowledge that just his cock had been enough to tip her over the edge.

“You- haven’t come yet,” Harry gets out, twisting around to look at him with dark green eyes and he feels his cock jolt at the sight.

“Why don’t we continue this in the showers?” Angelina suggests, slipping her fingers out of her. “Less of a clean-up,” she says innocently when both eyes darted towards her.

Harry grimaces as she shifts. “I think I’m going to need a hand,” she admits with a brush of embarrassment.

Angelina laughs as she shifts into a crouch and Harry hesitantly wraps her arms around her neck, squeaking in shock as she was easily hauled up, legs wrapping around the other’s waist, meeting Oliver’s amused gaze over her shoulder as Angelina carried her off towards the shower stalls.

“Do you think you can keep holding her like that?” Oliver asks in interest as he reaches past them to turn on the water.

“Mm,” Angelina agrees, nuzzling her cheek against Harry’s as Oliver lined himself up and pushed back inside as the water smattered down upon them and Angelina gave a surprised little jolt as the colour spread from Harry’s cheeks all the way down her chest. “Damn,” Angelina whistled, hoisting Harry up tighter against her and running one hand down against the girl’s belly. “I can feel you pushing into her.”

Oliver snapped sharply forward. “You can’t just say things like that, Angie,” he protests as Harry tilts her head, running her mouth over Angelina’s collarbone, scraping her teeth over the thin skin, tongue darting out and dragging up as Angelina tilted her head back, allowing it to follow all the way up with a flick against her chin.

Her gaze was amused as she bent down with a nip against an earlobe.

“Do I taste good?” she teases.

“Salty,” Harry admits honestly, feeling her breasts against her own and tightening her legs, curling her back to give herself a better view as she reaches out and palms them, Angelina watching her in a mix of fondness and hunger as she twisted up her nipples, tugging as she was pushed rhythmically up against her.

Oliver breathes out hard, fingers tightening, and Harry has little time to prepare herself before he was hilting up into her and sticky warmth abruptly flooded into her, the feeling strange and alien as she froze self-consciously, relaxing slowly as Angelina tugged her into a kiss and Oliver’s lips pressed against her shoulders.

-

They take their time cleaning her up after getting her out of the wet shirt and Harry shoulders her gear, bags packed and back in civilian clothes.

“I’ll think about it,” she tells them with a little smile when they pauses to look at her. “About the Puddlemere United,” she clarifies.

Angelina gave her a concerned look with an underlying with anticipation. “Are you sure?”

Oliver discreetly elbows her to a warning look that he completely ignores, looking rather like all his dreams were coming true before his eyes.

Harry thinks about continuing the path as an Auror, a life of fighting monsters, constantly anticipating the next threat around the corner.

And then she thinks about Quidditch that had always been her one true respite at Hogwart and she thinks about plesure and warmth and the taste of salt on her tongue.

Her smile blossoms wide and sure. “Just make sure to take it through the proper channels this time,” she teases, laughing as they squished her up between them, feeling warm and content and lighter than she'd been in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah. I was re-watching some stuff from the movies but I really should get back to reading the books to get a proper feel for Angelina - I had such a crush on her the first time I read the books but it's been awhile now.
> 
> Did you know that Puddlemere United are, canonically, Dumbledore's favorite team? I was giving myself a crash-course in Quidditch history on the off-chance that it might add something to this and isn't the picture of Harry and Albus side-by-side in matching scarves and hats just adorable?
> 
> You're always welcome to drop by my tumblr, artsy-death, if you're curious as to what kind of pairings and so-on that I'm entertaining! I post bits and pieces from project alongside some nerdy stuff and my ask box is always open.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Puddlemere United

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke, you asked and you shall recieve.

”You’re up to something.”

Harry froze self-consciously, turning her head to look back at Ginny who was leaning back against the kitchen table, eyebrow raised.

“What makes you say that?” Harry asks, rinsing the last suds of the plate she’d been cleaning and placing it aside, reaching for the next one as Ginny hummed, fingers drumming against the table, and Harry can feel her eyes on her back, giving the question some consideration while Harry worked through two more plates and started on the glasses.

“You’ve been… happier,” Ginny says finally with some decisiveness. “And you’ve been spending less time with Ron and Hermione.”

“Ron is starting the Auror program next week and Hermione is already recruited into the Ministry,” Harry replies after a moment. “They’ve been busy.”

“Which is why they haven’t noticed you’ve been busy,” Ginny agrees and Harry blows out a breath, a faint smile as she placed the last of the utensils aside, washing her hands and drying them off before she turned to face the other girl.

“What exactly are you thinking?” she asks curiously.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Ginny tilts her head. “Had it been anyone but you I would have considered you getting out there and dating but it’s not really your style.”

Harry wonders exactly what her _style_ was considering she’d had her first time on a locker room floor with her two former Captains.

“You decided against the Auror program then,” Ginny says after a moment and Harry winces. “I take it Ron doesn’t know yet,” she adds dryly at her reaction.

“I never said anything about joining,” Harry admits, rubbing tiredly at her neck. “I kept telling him I needed to think about it and then – somewhere along the line he made an assumption and wouldn’t hear me out about it.”

Ginny stares at her for a moment.

“If I’m honest, I was surprised when Ron claimed you’d said yes." She folds her arms as Harry looks up, eyes meeting. “The first time I really met you, Harry Potter, you were covered in blood, a dead basilisk on the floor behind you, a sword in your hand and a phoenix on your shoulder. You’ve been – fighting, I guess, for as long as I can remember – even before I stepped a foot onto Hogwarts. But you – it was always trouble seeking you out, not the other way around.”

“I don’t know, I think I managed to get us into plenty of trouble with my hang-ups on Snape and Malfoy,” she says.

Ginny snorts. “Yeah, and you were right about Snape, weren’t you? He killed Professor Dumbledore.”

 _Because Albus made him swear_ , Harry thinks but doesn’t voice.

There was still something intensely private in those last memories shared between her and her old Potions Professor and she’d decided that Snape at least deserved that she kept them to herself.

She might not have agreed with the man and she doubted she would ever be able to forgive him, but he had loved her mother in his own twisted way and in the end he was a key part in ending of the second war.

Harry was already keeping Albus’ many secrets, adding Snape’s to them wasn’t much of a burden with how most avoided even speaking his name.

McGonagall had arranged a proper burial for her former colleague and they had had tea in service afterwards, talking about anything and nothing in companionable silence before sharing a silent toast without mentioning names but it was the extent of it and no painting had been made for him.

Harry privately doubted Snape would have wanted one – wherever he was, he was probably the better for it.

“I suppose,” she relents.

Ginny gives her a sharp look for it but doesn’t push. “My point,” she says instead. “Is that you were _relieved_ when Voldemort died and it might take you a bit to figure things out but – that’s what you fought for, wasn’t it? A chance at your own life and choices and not – this,” she knocks a knuckle against her forehead in the mirror place of Harry’s scar, “deciding for you.”

Harry doesn’t say that she nearly had joined up with the Auror program – that it had been the only thing that seemed natural until Angelina and Oliver cornered her inside that empty locker room with an offer that had completely side-blinded her.

She had made it to the trials just a month earlier and she had been promised a response any day now.

Even knowing that it didn’t prevent doubt from curling in her gut – anxiety and questions crowding up at the potential of seeing Oliver and Angelina both again.

What did they expect from her?

What did she expect from them?

“It’s okay not to say,” Ginny tells her when the silence stretches. “Whatever it is – I’m happy for you because it’s clearly been good for you.”

“I’m still figuring it out for myself,” Harry tells her with an apologetic lift of her lips. “It might be something, it might be nothing.”

-

Ron does not take the news well.

Harry doesn’t take him not taking the news well and for once it’s not her floundering in the middle of things in their trio, door slamming shut only to open with a quick shout inside before shutting again as Hermione hurried down the grass to catch up with her.

“I’m not going back,” Harry snaps her as she sidles up beside her.

“I’m not going to make you,” Hermione says with a warning look and Harry struggles to reign in her temper as they make their way down the field, letting her steps blindly lead them as she worked through the anger until there was only a seeping sort of disappointment left and she came to an abrupt halt in the middle of nothing.

“Better?” her best friend asks with raised brow and Harry swallows, nodding. “Good,” she says and flops down right there and then, Harry staring at her in bafflement for a second before snorting and sinking down beside her.

Harry toes off her shoes and socks, flexing her toes in the grass as Hermione absently glanced around them, giving her a chance to work through her feelings in companionable silence.

“I thought he’d have learned to listen by now,” Harry says with tired frustration after a long moment, tilting her head up, squinting at the sun. “I never told him I wanted to be an Auror.”

“I know that, you know that, he knows that,” her friend agrees. “But it doesn’t make the disappointment for him less jarring. He was looking forward to it as your next new adventure, the natural continuation after all we’ve done.”

Harry grimaces, digging her toes into the earth half-heartedly.

“He’ll get over it.”

“How come he isn’t angry at you?” Harry asks a bit mulishly. “It was always the three of us but he didn’t protest about you joining the Ministry.”

“Oh, he was a bit grumbly about it,” Hermione admits with a twitch of her lips at her grumpy face. “But I think he considered it sort of unavoidable as well with S.P.E.W. and everything. And, we don’t really see eye-to-eye on most things, it’s always been you in the middle to smooth things out.”

“I suppose,” Harry relinquishes.

“To be honest, I think he’s a bit nervous of doing something on his own,” Hermione tells her, drawing up her legs and tucking her chin against her knees. “We’ve stuck with each other through thick and thin.”

Harry glances at her, brow dipping. “Because we’re friends.”

“Most eleven-year-olds aren’t ready to die for their friends,” Hermione says and they exchange looks, both thinking back on the way Ron had crumbled to the floor as he sacrificed himself to defeat McGonagall’s giant chess and then the fire – Harry stepping through to face Voldemort on her own.

Harry’s mouth twitches up. “I suppose you have a point.”

“I usually do,” Hermione agrees.

“And I really lucked out with the two of you.”

“I don’t see how you would have made it through Hogwarts alive without us,” Hermione says frankly, startling a laugh out of Harry, and when she looks to the other girl she finds a fond smile and warm eyes. “Been a long time since I heard you laugh.”

“It’s been a strange year,” Harry admits but doesn’t expand and Hermione hums.

“Have you figured out what you’re going to do?”

“I’m… weighing my options.”

Hermione clearly wants to voice her opinions on that but she fights it down and clears her throat. “That’s good,” she says in a painful voice, reaching out and giving Harry a hearty pat on the back, and Harry’s shoulders shake at her strained effort of being supportive only to yelp when Hermione’s eye narrowed upon her and she uncoiled into a tackle.

Together they roll down the slope, laughing and giggling in a rare moment of carefreeness beneath the morning sun.

-

Harry gets the letter two days later, breakfast forgotten as she stares down at the words with widening eyes.

The accompanying package had to be carried by four owls and she tugs it open, running trembling hands down the deep purple shirt and the long coat with POTTER in golden letters above a large 21.

Harry can’t resist pulling it on, taking care to worm into the white pants and securing thigh guard over them before tugging on the long-sleeved dark under shirt, strapping on the heavy chest piece with its padded shoulders before pulling on the game shirt with relish.

She gets the elbow pieces in place a bit impatiently, pulling on the special made Seeker gloves that allowed for easy grip while lending support to her wrist.

There is a match-shirt there as well, at the very end, the sort fans might wear at games, and she lingers at it for moment before bending down to tug the lean boots in place, tall and padded over the shin in place of the shin guards she usually wore during Gryffindor games.

All of it was significantly lighter than she was used to, meant for speed without sacrificing her safety and she spreads her arms, doing an experimental spin in the kitchen with a growing grin.

-

_Dear Ms Potter_

_We are Delighted to welcome you to Puddlemere United!_

_We have enclosed you a set of training gear from the measurement you provided at the entrance exam. Please make sure it is all functioning to your satisfaction and let me know during our meeting next Monday morning at 8 o’clock sharp at the provided location on the back before we make the reveal to the rest of the team._

_I request that you keep the news to yourself for now. I think we can both agree that it needs to be handled with some delicacy and my PR Agent with be in touch with you the coming days to make sure this happens with your consideration in mind._

_Congratulations!_

_Best wishes from your new trainer,_

_Rami Bseiso_

-

Harry moves out of Grimmauld Place the following week, recruiting Ginny and Luna for help with buying and decorating after finding herself absolutely lost inside a bed store and promptly fleeing at the first person approaching her with a too wide smile.

Luna and Ginny both clearly delight in it – cramming all sorts of things into her shopping cart with decisiveness after Harry spent a good five minutes staring at a small porcelain dog, as if buying-or-not-buying it held all the answers to the world.

“The first time I visited Diagon Alley Hagrid had to keep me from buying a cauldron in gold,” Harry muses as she strokes her hand over the two heavy blankets Luna holds up expectantly, the blonde watching her carefully before dropping the fluffy one into the already full cart.

“Can you imagine Snape’s face if you had?” Ginny snorts.

“He would have been positively delighted,” Luna says breezily and Harry balks, shaking her head to the large unicorn in her arms and getting a sad little dip of her mouth back before she eventually relented and disappeared down another aisle as Harry stared after her warily.

“She does have a point,” Ginny says fondly as she stares after her girlfriend with amusement.

Harry considers it, turning a bit pale. “Let’s be glad Hagrid was there to bodily haul me away from it,” she decides, giving Luna a long look as she reappeared but allowing her new find as she reached out and snagged four nerf guns along with her to the cashier who looked long resigned at the sight of them.

-

She declines their help with the actual decorating after all the heavy furniture had found their place.

It wasn’t a terribly big apartment – a kitchen with place for a small table and four chairs to the left after a hallway and a toilet. Turning right led to a living room/bedroom combination with the bed on the left, shelves at the end, a small couch and a table on the right in front of a television on the right.

Most of it she leaves in in their bags, calling to order a pizza after making the bed and flopping down on top of the new Gryffindor red and gold covers that Ginny had exchanged her first pick of simple plain blues for.

She rolls around the small scruffy looking dog toy Luna had found for her, hugging it tight as she stares out into the small apartment.

No more cupboards, no more dark empty houses with lingering memories clinging to its wall.

“Welcome home, Harry,” she breathes, smiling against the tufty black head of the creature.

-

Despite doing her absolute best to distract herself her stomach was a knot of nerves on Monday morning as she packed her new gear into the heavy purple Puddlemere United bag and shrunk it down, placing it inside the small box beside her broom and pocketing it.

She looks around the walls, taking strength in it as she grabs for the floo powder and steps through with a call of her destination.

-

The days following Monday morning is a whirlwind of information and meetings and Harry barely gets in more than a greeting to Oliver and Angelina both even if she feels their eyes upon her often.

There’s easy familiarity in the training regimes and Oliver and Angelina are both forces to be reckoned with, challenging their trainer and Captain often and loudly and just as often derailing into serious arguments between just the two of them when their opinions collided bur always shaking on it at the end of the day, parting amiably.

Harry is mostly quiet, listening, trying to get a sense for what Puddlemere United was behind the radio announcer.

“Did you really have both of them as Captains?” one of her new teammates, a Beater named Hana, asks, looking fascinated at another derailing argument. “You must have been combing home the wins.”

“They both live and breathe for the sport,” Harry responds, watching them fondly. “Come mud and rain and injury, they both had us out on that field to the best of their capacity, even if it meant huddling up with warming spells in the stands just to watch.”

And despite their gesturing there was never any lingering frustration – they always gave space for the other to speak their piece before arguing against it, considering and weighing angles and propositions and taking time to ask among their teammates.

Considering the thoughtful way both their trainer and current captain watched them Harry wondered if there weren’t plans for co-captaincy of some sort in the near future.

 - 

Before she knows it a month has passed and then two and Harry returns home, exhausted but happy with the snitch stuffed into her pocket, to find a small note with an invitation, stomach curling up as she sinks down on her bed, staring at it.

-

Harry stuffs the tail end of her shirt down her jeans, zipping Sirius old jacket up over it and securing the collar in place, throwing her mirage a look in the mirror on the bathroom door in the hallway.

Sees herself bright eyed with anticipation, hair nervously combed back into something less disastrous than the way she usually kept it, dwarfed in her Godfather’s jacket but – in a good way that suits her, she decides, glancing down at her scruffy boots and dark jeans.

She grabs for the motorcycle helmet and tucks the bottle of wine beneath her arm, locking the apartment behind her as she leaves.

Harry pulls Sirius old motorcycle to a halt outside a flower shop, flushing with pleasure when the woman complimented her with a knowing glint when she asked for two identical bouquets.

Following the directions scrawled on the note she ends up at a small apartment block near the Leaky Cauldron, parking and hitting the button that would keep any curious muggles from looking to close at the bike as she slipped off, getting wine and flowers up and leaving the helmet dangling from her fingers as she hit the code and slipped inside.

She took the steps two at a time, slowing when she got closer to the third floor and breathing in deep as she paused in front of the door that read: JOHNSON, ANGELINA & WOOD, OLIVER.

She isn’t quite as surprised to find that they were living each other despite denying being a relationship and she knocks with a sense of anticipation and nervousness as she shifts the bouquet, fighting down a sharp pang of doubt, wondering if she was being presumptuous-

The door pulls open and Harry finds herself practically pulled inside, wine and flowers and helmet liberated by one pair of hands while another pair framed her face and lips descended upon her with warmth and desperation both and she melts into it, mouth opening, deepening it with a barely caught moan as Angelina pulls back.

“That okay?” she asks breathlessly.

“More than okay,” Harry reassures her, pushing up on her toes to steal herself another one before Oliver’s arms slips around her waist and gives her a little tug and she angles her head back, catching his lips as he draws her tight to him.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for _weeks_ ,” Oliver murmurs against her ear and Harry ducks her head, feeling suddenly shy at the clear genuine _want_ as the other reluctantly let her go with a brush of lips against her neck.

“Look at this – matching bouquets and, oh, I don’t think we’ve had this wine?” Angelina muses from the kitchen as Harry bends down and quickly unlaces her shoes, tugging them off a bit impatiently.

Oliver slinks over to his roommate, resting his chin on her shoulder as he peered over her shoulder as she held it up for his consideration, leaving Harry to toe her boots off, lingering nervously on the zipper of her jacket, hand tightening.

She’d been afraid of feeling underdressed but Oliver was wearing a simple but clean t-shirt coupled with a pair of jeans and Angelina’s dress brushes below her knees, a simple but practical thing with pockets that suited her well.

Mustering for her Gryffindor bravery she unzips Sirius jacket, taking strength in it as she reaches over and hangs it on one of the hooks behind the hangers before taking a nervous step into the kitchen to a sudden deep and intense silence as they fixates on the sight of her.

Emboldened Harry reaches for one of the glasses already poured, raising it up and taking a sip as she rests back against the kitchen table with a raised brow.

Angelina elbows Oliver who elbows her back, clearing his throat painfully before turning back to the food cooking on the stove.

“Looking good there,” Angelina says with a mix of hunger and amusement as she drinks her in from the bottom of the purple game shirt, her name in golden lettering on her back, PUDDLEMERE UNITED proud on the front and SEEKER curling over the emblem over her heart.

“She’s a tease,” Oliver breathes, glancing over his shoulder with heavy eyes and Harry grins at them both.

-

Angelina pulls her down on the couch after dinner and dessert had been finished and Oliver was loading up the dishwasher.

Into her lap, her knees spreading out on opposite side of her hips as their lips met softly and with growing hunger, a hand settling warm on Harry’s hip, allowing her to set the pace as it brushed teasingly along her midriff.

She makes a noise of surprise, jerking up against Angelina as a palm struck down against her rump, palming roughly over the fabric of her pants, tugging at the back pocket as he pushed forward, letting her feel the bulge of his cock straining hard against his jeans.

“I’ve been hard since the second I saw that shirt on you,” Oliver admits, voice strained as he rubs himself against her.

“She does deserve to be punished for it, wouldn’t you say?” Angelina murmurs, trailing her mouth over the arch of Harry’s jaw as she swallows.

Oliver’s hands dips down the front of her jeans, undoing the button with a flick and pulling the zipper down, two fingers dipping down with a teasing brush against her clit as she jerks towards it only to draw back. He grasps firmly at the hem, thumbs dragging against her skin as he rucks down jeans and underwear half-way down her thighs, leaving her bottom half bare with a creep of colour down her cheeks as he rubs an appreciative hand down her rump.

“We have some toys in our bedroom,” Angelina says, scraping her teeth over the shell of Harry’s ear, mouth warm and wet. “If you think you can take it.”

Harry shifts, feeling the cold air between her legs, nervousness twisting up with want as she nods.

Oliver draws back as Angelina snuck a hand up beneath the game shirt, undoing her bra and helping her worm out of it, dropping it aside just as Oliver reappeared with a box, placing it down beside them as Harry shifted, resting her cheek against Angelina’s shoulder as she peered down towards it.

She feels her mouth dry, walls squeezing down at the sight of the paddle, a flat round thing with red leather on one side, the other padded in golden faux fur for a softer impact. It's crowding alongside a strap-on with a curving black cock and a bottle of lube.

There were other things too but Harry reaches a trembling hand down and pulls those three things out, giving her permission to a sharp sucked breath behind her and Angelina’s grip tightening on her hip.

Harry shifts, burying her face into Angelina’s neck as hands urged her back into a small curve, both having a good view of her pale skin as Oliver reaches for the round paddle first, dragging a hand down the faux fur side experimentally and meeting Angelina’s dark eyes as he drew it back and landed a smack that echoed through the room with a little jerk of the body between them.

Another follows and then another, Harry’s breath hitching, focusing on the steadying hand on her hip, the warmth of the older girl, the sharp flat noise of the paddle as he spanked her, a broken moan worming up and through her mouth as he turned it, leather adding a louder, sharper noise.

Angelina mouths against her neck, sucking on her skin until it was bruising darkly, matching the blotchy spreading of colour as Oliver hit her with increasing strength, her walls clenching down on nothing, breath growing ragged as she hitched forward, pain and pleasure twisting up inside of her until she was diggings her nails deep into Angelina’s arms, curving her rump up into the next hit.

“Are you going to come like this?” Angelina asks, voice noticeably strained as she brushes fingers up against Harry’s folds to a jolt and a whine, walls clenching down as they pushed up and into her with a tight slide that made Angelina groan. “She’s so _wet_ ,” she breathes, pulling them out and spreading her fingers out for Oliver to see the sticky want clinging there as Harry squirmed with a whine.

Angelina pushes back into her with the next hit, pressing her palm down roughly against her clit and the next smack makes her thrust roughly against it with a desperate noise.

 _“Please-“_ she begs. “Please, please, please – I want to come, I want to-“ she gasps as Angelina pushes hard into her with a twist and scraping of calloused fingers inside her pussy as Oliver drops the paddle, sinking down to his knees and sucking her clit into his mouth, together forcing her over the edge in a matter of seconds as she climaxed with a broken keen and a sharp jerk of her hips.

She sinks against Angelina, mind buzzing, buttocks stinging as she slowly regained her equilibrium, feeling the hand stroking up and down her back, lips pressing against her temple with a soft murmur of reassurance and praise that made something deep inside of her twist with pleasure.

“Like hearing that,” Harry admits against Angelina’s skin.

“Yeah?” she asks, tugging her back, just enough to search her eyes, smiling at whatever she found. “You like hearing you’ve been good?”

“Mm,” Harry agrees, twitching as Oliver rubs a soothing hand down her rump.

Angelina’s eyes darkened possessively, grip tightening. _“Our good girl,”_ she breathes, stealing a kiss as Harry melts helplessly against her with a flutter of her walls and a little whimper as she presses into it.

“You up for more?” Oliver asks and Harry nods, allowing herself to be tugged down on her knees, Oliver and Angelina trading places, settling her in the spread of his knees, bulge straining visibly against the fabric as he sunk against the couch, leaving little doubt of what exactly was being asked of her.

She shifts, reaching over to thumb the button upon, pulling the zipper down, and he raised his hips, allowing her to tug it down half-way down his buttocks, freeing the long curve of his cock with a strained sigh of relief.

Behind her Angelina helps her out of her pants and underwear, tugging her up just enough to shuffle a pillow beneath her knees as she curled her back, getting herself up and over the erection, wrapping her hand around the girth, swallowing as she barely touched around it.

“Tuck your thumbs inside your fists,” Angelina advices as she settles down beside her and Harry leans forward with an experimental swipe against the pre cum beading on top of the cock.

Harry does as told, shifting nervously at the sound of a lid popping open, her cheeks being spread and cool lube dripping against the tight ring of muscles there, fingers rubbing soothingly as she opened her mouth, jaw straining, tucking her lips over her teeth as she had practiced carefully at home, swallowing him into her, tongue pressing up to taste him as she worked him carefully down, pausing to avoid gagging before pushing bravely just a few inches more before pulling slowly back.

The next time she pushes down a single finger sinks against the ring, disappearing inside of her with a shift of her hips at the strange feeling, trying to focus on the cock in her mouth as Oliver combs trembling fingers through her hair.

“You’re doing so _good_ ,” he murmurs, fingers curving against her ear, clearly resisting the urge to push down on her.  “Look at you – you’re stretching so prettily for me.” His thumb brushes over her lips straining around his thick girth and Harry whimpers, pushing down to take him deeper in response.

Angelina works a second fingers into her as Harry takes him with growing confidence, reaching and grasping for his hand, guiding it up against her head where it curled into her hair with a thick swallow and a push forward to sink her deeper with a little hitch of his hips as the head curved down her throat before pulling back.

Harry focuses on staying loose limbed and relaxed, grimacing but forcing herself not to clench down as a third finger spread inside of her as Oliver guided her into a rhythmic bobbing motion that helped her take him deeper and deeper until her nose was burying into his pubes with a strained exhalation above her as she swallows with an experimental hum.

“You’re doing so, so good,” Angelina murmurs, watching in fascination as her fingers disappeared inside her all the way down to the knuckles. “You’re amazing – you’ve gone so far beyond our expectations.”

Harry whimpers, opening her mouth wider as Oliver’s hands came to frame her face, thrusting up while forcing her down, bottoming out inside of her with increasing force as she struggled not to gag, saliva dripping down her chin, eyes watering, but making no move to stop him as he spread his thighs further, forcing her down hard between them as he drew his legs up, practically curling around her, arms settling and pushing down against her head as he groaned and sticky warmth erupted inside of her, triggering her reflexes into swallowing as he grinding her down before slowly pulling out, her tongue swiping up against the head just before he slipped past her lips.

Angelina drags her fingers out as well and Harry finds herself hoisted up and pulled into a filthy kiss with a groan. “I can’t believe how well you took me,” Oliver breathes, eyes bright and hungry, palm pushing flat against her belly, as if he could sense the seed she’d swallowed down into her, and there’s a pleased sort of curl inside of her at his words.

“So, how are we doing this?” Angelina asks as Harry squirms out of Oliver’s lap and up on her feet with only a slight wobble, reaching for the strap-on and sinking to her knees before the older girl who watches with lidded eyes as she loops it in place, strapping it in place while Oliver reaches over to lazily palm his flaccid cock.

“I want – I want to feel both of you,” Harry admits, ducking her head as she tugs the last strap in place, feeling the activation of magic with a static brush against her fingers.

Eyes the black cock with a swallow, pushing her cheek against it and glancing up to judge the other’s reaction to her suggestion only to still in place at the disbelief painted visibly on Angelina’s face, Oliver painfully still on the couch.

“Is that – is that okay?” she asks hesitantly.

“ _Okay,_ she asks,” Oliver groans, curling a hand aeound his cock and stroking it firmly. “As if it wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve heard in my _life._ ”

“Agreed,” Angelina says thickly. “I think I rather liked her on her knees, what do you say Oliver?”

 _“Please,”_ he agrees with a ragged voice, watching as Angelina crouched down before their flushed Seeker.

“Who do you want where?” she murmurs as the girl shifts back on her haunches, following her gentle tugs until she was arranged on her hands and knees, table pushed back to give proper space.

Harry glances at Oliver who raised a questioning brow from the couch. “I – liked it when you came inside of me,” she admits, fingers brushing against her folds with a slight flush.

Angelina obligingly slides behind the girl, a private smile blossoming as Oliver practically tripped over himself as he sunk down on the rug, yanking at Harry’s chin and angling down for a desperate kiss, tongue dragging against the younger’s teeth before he pulled back, searching her eyes before pressing a kiss to her brow.

Angelina hoists Harry up as Oliver settled down on the rug, reaching out and together spreading the girl above his cock, pushing her down and over the head with a jerk of her hips as she slowly slid down, down with a little push on her shoulders leaving her spread crotch to crotch as they both breathed out with a shudder.

Oliver reaches up, drawing the girl down towards him with a little hitch of his hips as he shifted his legs, making place for Angelina between them as she grasped and pushed up against the rosebud between bruised cheeks, spreading them out with one palm as she pushed forward.

Harry’s muscles knots, feeling herself slowly opening up with a continuous push of Angelina’s hips and a groan against Oliver’s chest as she curled her back, quivering as she felt it slip deeper and deeper inside of her, alongside the girthy cock already filling her impossibly wide, just a thin stretch of flesh keeping them separate as Angela bumped up against her rump, breathing out with a shudder.

“Damn,” she breathes out. “I can feel _everything._ ”

“She feels good, doesn’t she?” Oliver agrees, rubbing a comforting thumb beneath their Seeker’s eye as she visibly strained to comprehend the feeling of the both of them inside of her.

Harry chokes, clawing against Oliver as Angelina dragged back and pushed forward, Oliver letting out a breathy laugh at her impatience, drinking in the scrunched face, the scrabble for something to ground her as Angelina took her with increasing force.

He brushes his hands down the purple shirt, the lettering on the back of it, possessiveness flaring through of him as he angled his head and sunk his teeth hard into her shoulder to a cry, body jerking back, forcing Angelina to split her hard and fast as she reached out to catch herself on the younger’s hip with a curse.

This time, when Angelina draws back, Oliver drags himself out as well and pushes into her alongside his best friend, fucking her roughly between them as she clung, keening, clearly overwhelmed and overstretched and struggling for her own pleasure in the midst of a delicious mix of heady pain and satisfaction that came from being _owned_ so completely.

“Fuck,” Oliver curses as he splits her walls wide on him. “I’m not to last long like this,” he admits with a strained grunt.

“You heard her,” Angelina says with a hard thrust. “She liked it when you _came inside of her._ ”

Harry clenches down around him and Oliver grabs her hips, curling his back to hilt hard into her depth, mushing the head up against the entrance to her unprotected womb over and over again as Harry desperately hung on and Angelina pushed down hard on her lower back, making sure the head of the erection was hilted tight against her cervix as he came with a strained curse of her name and sticky hot semen filling her up as she clenched down hard on them both.

Oliver drags himself out of her with a jerk and Angelina pushes Harry down harder, setting a punishing pace that jolted her hard against the Captain beneath her, clit mashed down against the muscles of his belly as she came with a scrabble of limbs, arching as Angelina swore behind her at the feel of her locking down around the toy, the stimulation turning out to be too much as she came with a sharp jerk into the younger girl.

Angelina feels her heartbeat slowly calming, extracting herself carefully from their Seeker and tugging the toy off her, letting it fall aside.

Oliver doesn’t move from his place and Harry rolls off and beside him in a sprawl of limbs.

Angelina carefully shifts, bending down to slant her mouth into a lazy kiss that Harry tilted into with a moan.

She then flops down on Harry’s other side, squishing her up between them with a little wiggle and a sigh as they relaxed against the rug.

-

“- AND HERE IS POTTER, SHOOTING OUT INTO A SPIN ON HER FIREBOLT AND- LOOK AT HER GO! She is this season’s most exciting newcomer and she’s tightly followed by OLIVER WOOD AND ANGELINA JOHNSON, BOTH FORMER CAPTAINS OF THE NEW PUDDLEMORE SEEKER.”

Harry does a spin, cruising high – seeing Ron in complete purple and gold get-up, face painted, hat slanted on his head, and Hermione beside her, hand raised in an excited wave where she was practically vibrating in place.

She spies Ginny beside Luna who had managed to transform the lion hat from their Hogwarts years into a purple thing with golden mane, a knitted cap shoved on its head, holes cut out for its ears.

Oliver settles in place, sharp eyes on the game and Harry admires Angelina’s back as she settles in the middle of the Chaser formation.

Does a little loop, a grin on her face as cheers rose around her – her name echoing among many others, flags waving, the commentator’s voice echoing loudly around them.

 _This is what I fought for,_ Harry thinks, grasping the handle of the broom Sirius had gifted to her all those years ago, feeling the burden of Voldemort like a distant memory with the realization that settles in as she grins, bright and wide.

_I am happy to be alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was planned as a one-shot, I promise. It just... ended up having another chapter (I got a very nice request for it so here we are!). 
> 
> I do tend to plan a lot of of these pieces out way more than needed so - this was always kinda what it was supposed to lapse into with heavy implication from the ending of the last chapter.
> 
> I never really got Harry joining up the Aurors in canon? I do think he'd be more inclined for a teaching role back at Hogwarts but I am fond of this spin.
> 
> Artsy-death on tumblr of you want to swing by~
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


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